Our team's favorite "mascot" (aka kid that hangs out with us all the time) sitting in our room, talking about goals and grades and whether or not he'll make it to the NFL, diverts to a story about his childhood friend who was one grade older - "When he was in 9th grade and I was in 8th, he told me just to go to school and do what I gotta do, not to get distracted like other kids... then one day his grandma told me he died. And I didn't cry or anything, even though I knew him since I was like 10 or 11. And she told me he left me a note, you know we used to play football together and all that, and the note said that if I didn't make it to college for anyone else, to make it for him and for myself. So that's what I'm going to do."
1) I love that he's close enough to us to open up like that. Who would he talk to otherwise? Makes sense why he drives us crazy talking every day after school.
2) Sad that he said repeatedly "but it wasn't like a tragic death, he just drowned in his friend's pool in the suburbs, then had brain damage. But it wasn't like he was shot or anything." Another reflection of how accustom to death the kids in this neighborhood are.
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